


Sweep Up The Wood

by Scarimonious



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Friendship, Gen, Horror, Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 00:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarimonious/pseuds/Scarimonious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichabod went still at her side and stared at the table where he'd almost died. There were still bloodstains on the surface.</p>
<p>“You okay?” she asked.</p>
<p>He glanced over at her. “It occurs to me that I've cheated death twice now. And you know what they say about the third time.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweep Up The Wood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chelseagirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelseagirl/gifts).



Abbie had expected the Sin Eater to disappear and never be seen again after he'd separated Ichabod from the Horseman. She wouldn't blame him. With the Horseman now on the loose and who knew what else ready to slither out of the shadows, getting as far away from Sleepy Hollow as humanly possible seemed like a great idea. Only she didn't really have that option any more thanks to serendipity, divine providence, or sheer dumb luck.

It was a genuine surprise when Parrish left her a voicemail asking to meet in the Mason's chambers beneath the town. She had a brief rush of guilt over feeling relieved that something was happening. Waiting for the Horseman and Moloch to make their next move was slowly eating away at her nerves. She kept herself busy going through Korben's files and going through books with Ichabod to make sense of the prophecies and riddles, but they had no reference point, just vague ideas about demons and Purgatory. They needed all the help they could get.

Ichabod went still at her side and stared at the table where he'd almost died. There were still bloodstains on the surface.

“You okay?” she asked.

He glanced over at her. “It occurs to me that I've cheated death twice now. And you know what they say about the third time.”

“Maybe this is why the Horseman has it in for you.” She shone her flashlight over the various jars on shelves to see what was inside. “Or why he's after the both of us. If there's a way to keep on cheating death, I'm going to find it.”

“I have the utmost faith in you, Lieutenant,” he finally smiled as he made his way around the table to trace his fingers over the stain. “I would gladly give every last drop of my blood to return the favour.”

Abbie sincerely hoped it wouldn't come down to that.

They didn't have to wait long for Henry Parrish to arrive. He was almost like a brand new man; he was quiet and skittish when she first saw him, now he bristled with energy and there was a new determination in his eyes. And he brought a friend.

“I'd like you to meet Helena Bradford,” he said as he shuffled aside to let a woman into the room. She was almost tall enough to stand eye-to-eye with Ichabod and clutched the shoulder strap of the tote that she shrugged into place.

“Hi,” Helena lifted one hand to wave at them both and flashed a nervous smile. “Well, this is certainly cosy. I take it we're down here because of the giant pile of bones we passed on the way in?”

“Indeed.” Parrish ushered her toward the table. “Helena is a necromancer.”

The silence that followed was palpable.

“Not really a necromancer,” Helena said as she sat down and began to rummage through her bag. “What I do is more divination via the dead. But it means we should be able to sort through the bones to find the right owner.”

“And if you can find the right bones...” Abbie trailed off. Ichabod met her gaze, his expression set in steely resolve.

“We can free Katrina.” A waver in his voice betrayed all the emotions he was keeping bottled up inside. “Do it, Miss Bradford. Though I need to ask – will there be scorpions?”

*

The most obvious way to get in contact with Katrina, Helena explained as she pulled her hair back into a messy bun, was simply to bring Ichabod close to death. It was also a dangerous method so obviously not something she was willing to do. Likewise putting him in the path of the Horseman in the hopes Katrina would try to give him a sign as to how to escape was out of the question. Instead, Helena wanted to use herself as a catalyst to guide Ichabod through the other side.

She set a silver disc the size of a bread plate, slightly concave and polished bright, in the middle of the table. Next, she poured some water into it and swirled her finger around. The water kept spiralling even after she lifted her hand away and reached for Ichabod.

“Nobody look into the mirror too long. There's all kinds of things on the other side, they're just itching to slip into a nice warm body and live again.” Helena said. “Now...listen to the sound of my voice.”

She closed her eyes and spoke in soft, soothing tones that were better than any relaxation CD. Abbie had to dig her nails into her palm just to stop herself from getting caught up in it. Helena's words eventually trailed off and her chin dipped to her chest, Ichabod following suit moments later.

“Just what, exactly, are we supposed to be watching for?” Abbie asked quietly.

“You'll know it when you see it.” Parrish picked up Helena's bag, picking out a slender metal case that he flipped open to reveal a pair of syringes and a small bottle of adrenaline.

Not being able to look at the mirror was hard. Abbie kept sneaking glances out the corner of her eye as she switched between watching Ichabod and Helena. Neither of them moved or made a sound and the moments began to stretch into eternity.

Then she saw it.

At first she thought it had just been a fleeting shadow across the surface or maybe a trick of her mind – white steam rising from still moving water in four columns. Her stomach twisted and an icy fist squeezed her heart as she watched in horror as tendrils of vapour spread to form branches.

“Get them out!” she said and threw herself forward to shake Ichabod's shoulder. The edge of the table dug into her hip hard and the pain just spurred her to try harder. “ _Crane!_ ”

A shudder went along his arm and it took her a few moments to realise that it was coming from Helena as she trembled and suddenly jerked back. Her spine bowed with a sickening crack, her mouth wide in a silent scream, and a trickle of blood ran from her nose. Just as suddenly, she snapped out of it, opening her eyes to stare wildly around the room.

“I lost him!” she gasped. “ _I lost him!_ ”

“What do you mean you lost him?!” Abbie eased Ichabod back in his chair and he sagged, as though asleep. She pressed two fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there.

“He thought he saw her and he walked away, he went to follow, I told him not to do that, they're tricky over there, you can't trust anything you see,” Helena said quickly, trying to spit as many words out as she could in one breath. “But he wouldn't listen, he followed it and then he was gone. He was gone and there were four white trees. Something was coming out of the ground.”

_Moloch._

“Listen,” Abbie swallowed the knots in her throat. “Is there a chance we can get Crane back?”

“What?” Helena only just now noticed that her nose was bloody and carefully dabbed at it with her sleeve.

“We need to get Crane back. I have a connection to him, you can use that just like you use his connection to Katrina, right?”

“Maybe? I think so.” Helena took a couple of deep breaths and Abbie could see the trembling in her shoulders subside.

“You can do this,” Abbie reached across the table to grasp her fingers. “Now talk me through it.”

*

Travelling to the other side was much like being on a rollercoaster that spiralled out of control on the way down. What was most terrifying was just how exhilarating it was to just...let go. Part of Abbie wanted to reach out and see what she could touch but dreaded what might reach back.

The next thing she knew, she was standing in the middle of thick grey fog. Twigs cracked underfoot and she could smell the forest around her but couldn't see a thing.

“ _Crane?!_ ” she shouted and listened to her voice echo and fade. “Helena?”

She felt something move beside her and whirled, her hand going to her holster only to realise that it wouldn't do her any good here. Her gun was back in the land of the living.

Feathers brushed past her face, ruffled her hair, and she heard the distant caw of a crow. It sounded a lot like mocking laughter.

“ _CRANE!_ ” Abbie edged forward with one hand in front of her face so she didn't walk straight into a low-hanging branch. The fog thinned with each step but never fully disappeared. She could make out the tall silhouettes of the trees, but for all she knew they could stretch into eternity. If she stared too long, they seemed to move and shift, rearranging themselves to create new clearings and to swallow up the path in her wake.

Something pale darted out of the shadows toward her. Abbie picked up the biggest rock she could find and raised her hand, only to get yanked behind a tree trunk. Helena pressed a finger to her lips and pointed upward with a shaky finger.

The leaves rustled and branches creaked, the dappled light constantly moving so it was easy to miss the creature that lurked above them. It was the size of a human, crouched in the fork of the trunk with long, birdlike talons where its feet should be. Its eyes glittered far too bright as it tilted its head to one side and sprang to a lower branch, landing easily with those terrible claws, and leapt to a nearby tree.

“What is that?” Abbie hissed through her teeth.

“They're everywhere,” Helena said softly. “And they're all headed in one direction.”

Hope surged through Abbie. The tension between her shoulders lessened and it was suddenly easier to breathe. “Come on,” she said, watching the branches. “Let's go see what's so interesting.”

It was less disorienting following the creatures. The terrain suddenly dipped and forest opened up on a massive clearing. At its centre was a huge skeletal tree, twisted and warped upon itself. From the branches hung animal cages ranging from small wire birdcages to massive steel enclosures. And below them were a small mountain of bones; bleached white and gnawed clean.

“There!” Helena pointed to one of the dog-sized cages nestled amongst the exposed roots of the central tree. Ichabod was crammed inside, curled up tight to make himself seem as small as possible.

“Great. How're we going to get him out without all those things noticing?” Abbie scanned the edge of the clearing. She counted three creatures nearby and a fourth one appeared as soon as she was done. Two more climbed amongst the branches of the central tree, picking bones out of the empty cages and chewing on what sinew was left.

“One of us can distract them while the other circles around,” Helena squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Water brings life, it'll guide you home.”

“No!” Abbie tried to grab her, but it was too late. Helena ran into the clearing and threw a skull at one of the biggest cages. The metal rattled like thunder and Abbie could see the nearest creatures pause and look in the direction of the sound. And then in a flicker of shadows, they were gone.

Abbie gritted her teeth and stuck to the tree line as she moved around toward the mound of gnarled roots. There was still an awful lot of open ground between her and Ichabod. She looked to the branches and waited for movement. On the other side of the clearing, she could hear Helena yelling insults and there was another loud crash of bone and metal. Abbie ran as hard as she could. The roots were just home plate and all she needed to do was slide in order to steal it. She skidded across the coarse ground and froze behind a birdcage, cringing over how the bones scattered from around her. She counted to five, then ten, and finally twenty before she crept along the edge of the tree and up to Ichabod's cage.

“How they managed to fit all ten miles of your legs into this thing is beyond me,” she muttered as she threw back the lock and eased the door open.

“Uncomfortably.” Ichabod sighed with relief as he unfolded and dropped to the ground. “It's good to see you, Lieutenant.”

“Thank me when we're back in the land of the living.” Abbie began to lead the way back to the treeline. They had almost made it to the open ground run when she saw Helena running in their direction.

“GO! _GO!!!_ ” Helena waved at them to go left before she veered right. Abbie took the hint and threw herself toward the tree line. She saw Ichabod keeping pace out the corner of her eye.

They didn't stop running until the forest swallowed them up.

*

“We should go back for Miss Bradford,” Ichabod said once he'd caught his breath.

“Go back where?” Abbie gestured to the trees. “Which direction would you choose?”

“Fair point.” He slumped against a trunk, sliding down to sit on the ground. “There's no sunlight to aid navigation either.”

“We can still go home. Somehow.” She sat down beside him and let her head rest against the tree. This was where she was completely out of her depth in this whole regard to being a Witness. There may have been plenty of prophecy and riddles about what to expect, but the reality was exactly this: everything she'd ever known no longer made any sense. That the man who'd been dead for over two hundred years and suddenly woke up again was the least crazy thing in all this was weirdly also the most comforting. Ichabod made a strange amount of sense, even when they were dealing with demons, monsters, and witchcraft.

“I'm not sure how we're going to manage going home without Miss Bradford,” Ichabod said as he leaned his shoulder against hers. “At least we have each other.”

“Helena said 'water is life.' Don't suppose you know what that means?”

“Aside from the obvious? Water is typically believed to have the power to wash away evil or at least lessen its powers. This is why when you break a mirror, you're supposed tot throw the shards into a river to wash all the bad luck away. It's said one could escape from malicious fairies and pixies by leaping over a stream or brook.” One corner of his mouth quirked up in a small, wry smile. “I cannot personally attest to the efficacy of that technique.”

“At this rate, we may get to test it out,” she said with a helpless smile. “You think we'll face off against vampires at some point?”

“Perhaps.”

“Werewolves?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Now you're just messing with me.” She bumped her shoulder back against his. “Thanks.”

His smile began to grow, but faltered and he scowled. “Do you hear that?”

Abbie held her breath to listen. The leaves rustled and branches created, somewhere in the distance crows cawed and she hoped against all hope they weren't picking at Helena's bones. But beneath all that, almost lost in the ambient rush was the sound of trickling water.

“Water.”

“Water is life,” Ichabod said.

“It will guide you home.” Abbie pushed herself to her feet and offered him a hand, which he gratefully accepted. He lead the way through the trees and sure enough, there was a babbling brook. The farther along they followed the twists and turns, the deeper and wider it got, until it disappeared into a cave in a hillside.

“I guess there's only one way to find out if that's the way out.” Ichabod offered her his elbow. She slipped her arm around his and together they walked into the darkness.

*

Abbie jerked back from the table with a gasp. She overbalanced and bumped into a shelf, jars rattling and a book tumbled to the floor in a cloud of dust. She was back in the Mason's chamber.

Ichabod was still slumped in his chair. She carefully shook his shoulder. “Crane?”

“It seems that third time was not the charm after all, Miss Mills.” Ichabod said, his voice thick and sluggish, but he managed to sit up on his own volition and offered her a wan smile.

“Yeah, let's try not almost dying for at least a week.” She looked over to Helena. Parrish had eased her forward so that she rested her head on her forearms against the table. “How's she doing?”

“Not good,” he shook his head. “Her pulse is so faint.”

“Then we'd better wake her up.” Abbie reached for the case with the syringes, uncapped one, measured out a dose of adrenaline, and handed it over for him to administer the shot to her arm.

The water in the mirror stopped swirling when he pushed the plunger down. Abbie thought she saw shadows flying in formation across the shining surface. Helena gasped and jolted upright as soon as the water became still. She wheezed and each shuddering breath was painful to hear. Finally she pushed her chair back and bent over, spitting onto the ground.

“You okay?” Abbie asked as she rounded the table.

“Fine,” Helena croaked and spat again. Feathers and shiny bone were matted to the floor. She looked up at Abbie with eyes that glittered far too bright and carefully wiped the blood from her mouth with her sleeve. “Every time I cross over, a little bit less of me comes back.”

“You're one of them.”

She leaned against the table, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears while her shoulders shook with silent sobs. “I _really_ like this life. I don't want to be like them. I'm _not_ like them. And I'm sorry,” she looked over to Ichabod and her tears finally fell. “I couldn't find Katrina. She's not amongst the dead. Her bones aren't there. I think she's still using them.”

“You're saying that she's alive.” Ichabod said softly and Helena nodded. “No, that's one step closer than we were before, Miss Bradford.” He leaned over to grasp her hand. “And for that, I am eternally grateful.”

“I think I might know someone who can help with that,” Helena said with a shaky smile and sniffed loudly. “But first I really need to go home.”

*

Two days later, Abbie received a box at the Sheriff's station. Inside was a note from Helena with a list of things to fill the box with and instructions on where to bury it. With the news that the Horseman was returning to Sleepy Hollow for his head, Abbie locked the box and note away with Korben's files. This could always wait until tomorrow. She really hoped they could keep the Horseman at bay, just to make sure they didn't run out of tomorrows any time soon. 

**Author's Note:**

> For the Sleepy Hollow Gifts Exchange!
> 
> Chelseagirl prompted Ichabod and Abbie working together and growing their friendship - I hope you like it!
> 
> Title is from [Funeral Blues by WH Auden](http://homepages.wmich.edu/~cooneys/poems/auden.stop.html). I eschewed sleep in order to make the deadline, so I sincerely apologise for any typos.


End file.
